


Occam's Razor

by snowballschance35



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Brother!Stiles, Canon-Typical Violence, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, M/M, Pizza Boy!Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:19:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 11,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowballschance35/pseuds/snowballschance35
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and his little sister are home alone, unaware of the sinister forces descending on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony's Pizza. Tony Speaking.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a craving for big brother Stiles and will seemingly go to great lengths to avoid the work I am supposed to be doing. Keeping in story-telling practice and all that. This is the un-beta-ed result. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. I hope you can drop a comment.

“Damn it.”

Stiles scratched the back of his head, wincing at the mess that had just coated the inside of the microwave, the singed food smoking. He huffed out a breath.

“You ruined it, didn’t you?” a little girl’s voice said from the dining room table.

“How’d you guess?” Stiles asked, crinkling his nose as he examined the sad remains of what was supposed to be their dinner.

“I didn’t guess. I could smell it burning.” Stella’s sightless eyes scrunched as she giggled at him, her fingers still resting on the book filled with raised dots as she felt them carefully.

“Alright, I could use a little less commentary, thank you.” Stiles quipped, putting his hands on his slim hips. He graoned. “I guess it’s pizza again, Squirt.”

“Yaaaay!” Stella cheered, smiling. Stiles felt his lips turn up slightly at the sound.

“Yeah, yeah. I screw up dinner and you reap the benefits, but you gotta promise me you’re not gonna tell Dad.” Stiles said, digging the pizza menu out of a drawer in the kitchen.

“Maybe _Derek_ will deliver it.” Stella teased. Stiles glared at his sister, who smirked knowingly.

“How do you know about Derek, you little eavesdropper?” Stiles asked suspiciously.

“His voice is dreamy. You smile a lot when you talk to him.” Stella tittered, swinging her legs under the table. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“Alright, I see how it is-you know what-? I just-There's nothing-Okay-“ Stiles sputtered. He huffed out a breath. “Don’t you have a boy band to obsess over?”

Stella giggled in answer, pushing her chair out and running her hand along the wall.

“I’m going up to my room.” Stella threw over her shoulder, her dark curls bouncing.

“Okay. You gonna listen to some music?” Stiles asked, dialing the phone and putting it up to his ear.

“Yeah. Can you come get me?” Stella requested, turning toward him.

“Yeah, Squirt, of course I can.” Stiles said, crossing his legs, leaning against the counter and listening to the phone ring.

“Thanks, Stiles!” her tiny steps fading away and stomping up the stairs.

The electronic buzzing of a phone sounded around the interior of an unmarked white van parked a few blocks away. The pizza place picked up and the shadowy figures in the van leaned in to listen.

“Tony’s Italian. Tony speaking.” The man’s electronic voice chirped.

“Hey, Tony. It’s Stiles.” Stiles’ electoric voice replied.

“Stiles! My boy! How you doing? Your dad still at that convention?”

“Yeah, he’s still there. Just me and Stella.”

“What can I get you? The usual?”

“That’d be great.”

“You got it, kid.”

“And, uh, hey, Tony?” Stiles voice said, suddenly shy.

“Yeah, Stiles?” the pizza owner answer.

“Is, uh…is Derek working tonight?” Stiles asked in a small voice. The line was flooded with the pizza owner’s roar of laughter. “Alright, alright, that’s enough of that.”

“Sorry, kid. He was just asking about you.” Tony said. There was a groan on the pizza owner’s line, presumably from the Derek in question. “I’ll send him over in a few with your pie.”

“Thanks, Tony.” Stiles mumbled.

“Bye, Kid.” Tony said, before a click signaled the end of the phone call. 

The driver of the van looked through a scope into one of the windows of the Stilinski house, the crosshairs focusing on Stiles putting his phone back into his pocket with a shy smile before spinning in a circle on one foot suavely, pointing his fingers. The spin did not go as planned, however, when the boy tripped on something and stumbled, catching himself on the counter and looking around the kitchen to make sure no one saw him.

The driver took the scope away from his eye and spoke into a walkie talkie.

“Get ready to move in.” the man barked quietly.


	2. Pizza Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles just...really likes pizza, okay?

Stiles tried to remain calm while he waited on the pizza and, ultimately, Derek. After he almost brained himself on the kitchen counter he sniffed at his plaid outer shirt.

“Little deodorant never hurt anybody.” Stiles muttered to himself. He bound into the bathroom, applying some deodorant and grabbing his styling gel from the bathroom cabinet. He scooped up a bit and fixed the soft swoop of his hair, shaking his head at his own ridiculousness.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked his reflection, his mouth open in concentration as he ghosted his fingers over his hair. “Dressing up for the pizza boy? You’re gonna give him the money and he’s gonna leave and you are gonna…watch his ass shamelessly and not say anything. What’re you doing your hair for, you fuckin’…dweeb?”

Stiles shook his head, staring at his reflection, pursing his lips, and sighing. He swept his fingers over his hair one last time before leaving the bathroom and pacing around the house. He forced himself to settle down, sitting down at the couch with his computer.

He tapped idly at his history report, checking the clock every thirty seconds. His head popped up when he heard a knock on the door. He scrambled up, setting his laptop on the table, stumbling briefly on the power cord with a curse before quickly righting himself, adjusting his shirt and walking quickly to the door. He took a deep breath, his hand on the door handle.

He turned the handle with one hand, the other reaching for his wallet.

“Hey, Der-“ Stiles’ words died in his throat when he saw the cloud of dark figures on the front step. “-shit.”

Stiles’ heart flew into his throat and he swung the door closed. The door came to a jarring stop against a black-booted foot wedged in the door jam. Stiles grunted through clenched teeth and braced his shoulder against the door, throwing his body against it, his amber eyes wide as dark clad limbs worked their way into the house like black tentacles.

The combined force of the dark figures was too much for Stiles and he was thrown backwards, four dark figures sliding almost soundlessly in through the front door.

Stiles scrambled to his feet and raced through the house, followed by pounding footsteps. He had a flash of Stella upstairs with her headphones on and the sinking feeling in his gut got infinitely worse. Hopefully, her music would be too loud like it always is and she wouldn’t come out of her room and these people wouldn’t know she was there.

“Get back here!” Stiles heard one of the attackers shout.

“Let me get on that.” Stiles ground out under his breath, knocking over tables and chairs on his way through this kitchen.

The men stomped into the kitchen to find the mess Stiles had left there, looking around for the boy they were hunting. The back door was ajar. 

“There!” the leader said, pointing. They ran toward the back door.

A cry and a clatter caused the attackers to whirl around to find one of their number on the ground, Stiles standing over him, aluminum bat raised, his jaw clenched.

The next attacker that pelted at him was immediately laid flat by another vicious swing from Stiles’ bat.

“Yeah! Go Mets! …oh, fuck.” Stiles’ eyes grew wide as the rest of them converged on him. He held his bat aloft.

He had time for a brief, aborted swing before two sets of hands where on him, wrapping an arm around his neck and ripping his bat out of his hands. He watched the two guys he hit get up off the floor and he groaned.

“Hey, remember when I hit you guys with a bat?” Stiles wheezed, thrashing in the arms that held him.

The first one grabbed Stiles’ shoulder and threw a fist into the teenager’s unprotected stomach. The boy doubled over as all the breath was knocked out of his body, held only by the arms of his attackers. He felt a hand lift his chin just before pain exploded across his face, his head whipped to the side by the force of the punch. 

“I guess you do.” Stiles croaked as he felt himself being dragged toward the living room.

By the time Stiles felt his feet hit the carpet of the living room instead of the tile of the kitchen, he had regained enough strength to fight the arms dragging him. He lashed out his long legs, tripping his attackers, dug in his heels, and hooked his feet around door jams.

“Slippery little bitch.” One of the men grunted, pulling dragging Stiles across the living room floor before tossing him face down onto the carpet. Stiles clenched his teeth as one of his attackers sat put a knee in his back and twisted his arms behind him.

“Thanks, I try.” Stiles growled. His breathing picked up as he heard a gun cock and the cold steel of a barrel pressed against his head. “C-c’mon, guys. I just did my hair.”

“Who else is home?” the guy who kept talking, must be the leader asked.

“Nobody. I really wish I’d vacuumed this place when my dad told me to.” Stiles babbled, his voice muffled by the carpet. “You ever have days like th-ah!”

The leader grabbed a handful of Stiles’ hair and yanked, keeping the gun against Stiles’ head.

“We saw you talking to someone, kid!” the leader barked.

“Myself. Jesus, I talk to myself all the time. Have you met me?” Stiles said through clenched teeth. The man on top of him pressed down on his arms twisted behind his back and pushed all the air out of his body.

“Search the house while we tie up the smartass.” The leader ordered to the two guys standing to the side. Stiles growled his frustration.

“It’s just me!” Stiles groaned as he felt a plastic zip tie wrapped around his wrists. “My dad’s a cop. He’s gonna be home any second, so whatever you’re gonna do, you better do it quick and leave.”

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut as the leader pressed the muzzle of the gun more viciously into Stiles’ scalp.

“You’re dad’s been gone for days, Kid, gonna be gone for a few more days if our intel’s right.” The man growled in his ear. “Now shut up before you piss me off.”

“I haven’t yet? I must be losing-“ Stiles was cut off by a high-pitched scream from upstairs. 

Cold, abject terror ripped through Stiles. 

“Oh, God…” he moaned.

“Trying to hide something, you little shit?” The leader hissed, tipping Stiles’ head up to give him a perfect view of his sister struggling in the arms of the man holding her, her legs kicking. His little sister’s screams, muffled behind the man’s hand, stabbed at his heart excruciatingly. 

“No! Stella!” Stiles shouted, renewing his struggles with a desperate vigor, his feet dragging on the carpet as his legs kicked. “Don’t touch her!”

“Where’s your smartass little remarks now?” the man chortled.

“C’mon, man.” Stiles pleaded. “You have me. Let her go.”

“Hmm…let me think…” the leader sighed thoughtfully, tapping the gun against Stiles’ face patronizingly. “…no." He turned to his men. "Get ‘em loaded up.”

Stiles bared his teeth as he was hauled off the ground, his arms tied tightly behind him by the zip tie, fighting to get to his sister, who kicked more frantically.

The six occupants of the house froze when they heard the sound of the doorbell.


	3. Like It's 1992

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek may be in a bit over his fuzzy little head.

Derek pulled up to the unassuming house in the suburbs and put his black Camaro in park, taking a deep breath in through his nose and out through his parted lips in an attempt to still the butterflies around his gut. He looked up at the house he knew well, despite only having delivered there a few times.

He’d only known Stiles for the few small exchanges that it had taken to deliver pizza to his house, but it was rare that Derek didn’t think about him, even on his days off or in his college classes. Stiles had this rich chocolate brown hair and his gorgeous eyes and his dazzling smile and miles and miles of long, lean muscle that sort of burrowed into Derek's brain and wouldn't leave, no matter how much he needed to concentrate. Stiles’ quick wit always brightened Derek’s shift.

Derek shook himself out of his thoughts, flipping down the visor to check his reflection. He smoothed down a few fly aways on his spiked-up raven hair. He rubbed a hand over his stubble. He wished his five o’clock didn’t spring up so fast.

He gave himself one more deep breath before grabbing the pizza bag from his passenger seat and heading up to the house, the blood rushing to his ears as he stepped up to the front stoop, shoving his finger into the doorbell and tried to calm his nerves.

A few seconds went by.

Derek balanced the pizza on one hand and rang the doorbell again and waited a few more seconds. He knocked on the door.

Derek’s eyebrows drew together in confusion as he looked into the window next to the door.

The door flew open a crack, drawing Derek’s attention back to the front door.

Stiles’ wide-eyed face was pressed into the small opening of the front door.

“Hey, Derek! Great to see your beautiful face again!” Stiles greeted in an almost frantic voice.

“Hey, Stiles. I got your pizza.” Derek answered, a flutter coming to his heart at the compliment.

“Thanks! Listen, uh, my hands are a little tied, could you…” Stiles gave a little wince and Derek noticed how sweaty Stiles seemed to be.

Derek was unable to see hand squeezing Stiles’ bound wrists behind his back, the other hand holding the muzzle of the gun pressed into Stiles’ side, shoved in viciously with his little ‘hands tied’ clue. Derek didn’t have Stiles’ view of the man holding the teenager’s struggling sister, tears pouring out of her sightless eyes, a second gun against her temple.

“You okay, Stiles?” Derek asked looking at Stiles hard.

“Y-yeah. Totally. Fine.” Stiles prattled hysterically. “I just…can you just leave the, uh, pizza on the porch?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Derek answered uncertainly. “You still have to sign the credit card slip, though.”

The credit card slip!” Stiles yelled before he winced again, the unseen gun shoved in his side again. “I need…to sign…yeah…need my hands for that, don’t I?”

“Most people…do. Are you sure you’re okay?” Derek asked.

“Yeah. I’m so touched you care, Derek, Yeah, just as soon as I get my hands out of…my pockets.” Stiles’ body jerked as the man holding him cut his zip tie and Stiles’ hands were free and he brought them forward as the door swung open a little wider without Stiles touching it.

“You seem to be sweating pretty hard.” Derek observed as he handed the small clipboard over to Stiles’ violently shaking hands.

“Derek, you do not ask a teenager about his alone time.” Stiles chided as he scribbled on the receipt. Derek felt the blood rush to his face as Stiles took the pizza out of his hands and shutting his door quickly.

Derek, still distracted by the idea of Stiles’ ‘alone time’, glanced down at the receipt on his clipboard and had to take a double take on what was written there in Stiles’ messy scrawl.

‘ _Get Help, Sweetcheeks_!’

Derek’s heart flew into his throat, his body immobile by indecision. The sound of the side door of the house banging open caught his attention.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” a voice-definitely not Sherriff Stilinski’s- growled.

“What the fuck did you want me to do?” Stiles’ voice demanded.

“Get in the fuckin’ van. You better not have written anything funny on that receipt.” The voice warned.

“Stilinski’s a pretty funny nammph!” Stiles’ voice was muffled as Derek walked around the edge of the house.

He found himself staring at a white van he had never seen at the Stilinski house before, but that’s not what drew his attention.

Two masked men were in the process of shoving Stiles into the van as he fought with all he was worth, shouting through the hand clapped over his mouth.

“C’mon, get him in there. This kid’s really hard to keep a hold of.” One of the men muttered, trying to keep Stiles’ wriggling sister under control. Derek panicked.

“Stiles!” Derek blurted without thinking.

Stiles head whipped over, his eyes wide and shining.

“Mmm!” Stiles had a chance to yell before the kidnappers took Stiles’ distraction as an opportunity to shove him to the van.

Derek had a split second to register the gun one of the kidnappers pulled on him before the shooting started.

The van squealed away over the sound of the phone ringing in the Stilinski house. Four rings sounded in the deafening silence before the answering machine picked up.

“This is the Stilinskis-” Stiles’ well-rehearsed voice said over the machine.

“Stella, Stiles, and Daddy!” Stella’s voice chirped.

“-still using an answering machine like it’s 1992 thanks to my father-“

“Stiles.” The Sheriff’s voice warned.

“Leave your message after the beep and we’ll get back to you.” Stiles said quickly before the beep sounded through the silent, wrecked home.

“Stiles!” The Sheriff’s panicked shouting emanated from the answering machine. “Take Stella and get out of the house right now, you hear me? Do _not_ stay in the house. Go over to Scott and Melissa’s, whatever, but I need you to _get out of the house_.”


	4. Your Romeo's dead, Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles loses faith

Stiles hit the carpeted floor of the van and the breath was knocked out of him. He realized the hand wasn’t across his lips anymore.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted. “Get hel-”

Stiles’ body jerked at the sound of gunshots, his stomach doing a painful flip as the kidnappers climbed into the van, pulling a crying Stella with them.

“Go, go, go!” The leader said just before the van peeled away.

“Did-did you jus-just…did you shoot him? Did you kill him? Is he dead?” Stiles eyes were wide as he grabbed Stella and wrapped his arms around her protectively, stroking her hair soothingly. She buried her face in her brother’s chest. “ANSWER ME!”

“You know what, kid? I’m sick of you.” one of the men said, ripping Stella from Stiles’ arms. She screeched and clawed at her brother’s shirt. Stiles reached for her, only to be held back by the two other thugs and pressed to the floor of the van.

“No! I’m sorry!” Stiles sputtered. “I’ll just-just please, don’t hurt her.”

“Stiles.” Stella hiccupped tearfully as she was pressed into a seat and pinned under a locked seatbelt, her arms against her sides and rendering her unable to move.

“C’mon, man. She’s scared.” Stiles pleaded over the sound of ripping duct tape behind him.

“Shut up.” He heard one of them growl just before his arms were pulled behind him and taped.

“It’ll be okay, Squirt. I promise, I’m right here, okay? It’ll be okay.” Stiles chanted, trying to keep his voice steady despite his body being jostled as he was tied up.

“I’m okay, Stiles.” He saw Stella tearfully nod her head and his heart broke even more.

“Yeah, your piece of shit brother’s right there, don’t you see him?” The guy holding her said, grabbing her chin and tipping her face toward Stiles, laughing. Stiles felt a chill go down his spine.

"Fuck you." Stiles ground out through his teeth. If he wasn’t sure these guys were monsters before, he was sure now.

“Aw, you mean you can't see him? That's a shame, because now you won’t hear him.” The guy sneered. Stiles's jaw clenched as his mouth was taped shut.

"No, leave him alone!" Stella screamed and Stiles yelled through the tape over his mouth as he heard the men laughing again. The leader approached the helpless teenager and he could do nothing but glare.

“Anybody following us?” The leader pressed his foot into Stiles’ back and called up to the driver.

“Nobody. Looks like the pizza boy bought it.” The driver called back.

“Hear that?” the man standing on Stiles hissed in his ear as Stiles grunted and gasped against the pressure on his back. “Your Romeo is dead, Juliet. So start being a little more cooperative or your sweet little blind sister is next.”

The kidnapper lifted his foot of Stiles and the teenager sucked in a breath hungrily, finally able to inflate his lungs. He blamed the ache in his bound limbs and his gasping breath for the tears springing to his eyes and the lump in his throat.

\--------------- 

The van pulled into an abandoned housing development, the construction equipment scattered around the silent, dark buildings as the van pulled through them. They pulled into the driveway of one of the houses and the driver looked around carefully before tapping on the backdoor of the van.

The van doors opened, the first hopped out, carrying a little girl struggling wildly in his arms, one of his hands over her mouth. The next two carried a slender body between the two of them, this one shifting only occasionally, it appeared to be a teenage boy, his arms were tied behind his back and tape over his mouth and eyes.

“Oh, shit.” Derek breathed, wide-eyed, as he watched a helpless Stiles and his sister being carried into the house from the driver’s seat of his Camaro, its black paint job making it invisible among the bulldozers. “Oh shit. Fuck. Shit shit shit shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait for this shitty, short chapter. I've had a severe bout of hating myself (ergo-everything I write) lately and I'm trying to work through it. Not an excuse, I know, but I appreciate your patience.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading.


	5. A Bullet Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My, you have beautiful children, Sheriff.

Derek struggled to get his breathing under control. He looked around his car, hoping an answer would come to him.

When the gunfire started back at the Stilinski house, he was sure he was dead. His legs worked on their own volition, tossing his body aside as the van squealed away.

Derek scrambled across the lawn to his car, growling through his teeth as his clumsy fingers fumbled with his keys for a few precious seconds before he shoved them in the ignition and quickly catching up with the van.

Derek’s heart beat painfully hard in his chest as he carefully kept his car out of sight of the van’s mirrors, ducking low behind the wheel, his wide green eyes just barely peeking over the wheel. He’d pulled behind the bulldozers in the housing development, the blood pounding in his ears as he watched the bound and gagged object of his affections along with his kid sister get carried into the house by would-be murderers.

“Phone! Phone, call the cops.” Derek muttered, clawing at his pocket, his shaking hands fumbling with his phone. He paused when he noticed the tail of his shirt.

He lifted it up and saw a small, singed hole through the fabric, the dim dash lights from his car shining through it.

A bullet hole.

A hole from a bullet that was supposed to kill him.

“Oh, my God.” Derek wheezed out a breath as he let the tail of his ruined shirt and his phone drop from numb hands, his chest heaving in panic as he put the heels of his hands to his temples, then over his eyes to prevent the terrified tears slipping out of them, the fear gripping him for a moment. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

He sniffed, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes and taking a deep breath and picking up his phone and pushing the button to turn it on.

The screen stayed blank.

He pushed the button again, harder this time.

Once again, no response.

The thought that he had fallen asleep studying last night and had not charged the phone like he usually did came crashing into him in a rush. He looked desperately at the completely dead phone in his hand.

“FUCK!” Derek roared.

 

The Sheriff’s police cruiser screeched to a halt in the driveway of his home, fresh from the emergency red eye from the convention he was attending, the cruiser’s sirens blaring. He didn’t bother to close the driver’s side door as he sprinted up to his house.

“Stella! Stiles-!” The sheriff’s call to his children was choked off when he saw the carnage that was his home. Tables were turned over, chairs broken, and scuff marks on the tile of the kitchen. He reached down with a shaking hand to pick up Stiles’ abandoned baseball bat off the floor, the blood draining from his face. He wrapped his hand around the aluminum, fear and rage threatening to close up his throat.

He looked up at the door saw a Polaroid picture pinned to the door by a large, wicked looking hunter’s knife.

_A Polaroid? Really? What is this, ‘Home Alone’? Are you kidding me?_ Stiles’ disappointed voice said in the Sheriff’s head as he moved toward the picture. He plucked it from the door, staring at the picture.

Stiles was on his knees, his face forced toward the camera by the person behind him gripping his hair, the other hand on his son’s shoulder, the teenager’s arms behind his back. Stiles’ jaw was clenched, glaring at the camera. Stella was held next to him, her face twisted in a sob, the arms of the man holding her wrapped tightly around her small body. There were no identifying marks on the assailants visible in the picture. It was carefully framed.

The Sheriff turned the picture over to find the message written on the back.

_My, you have beautiful children, Sheriff. I would hate to harm them._


	6. A Little Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy will save us

Stiles fought off the disorientation that pulled annoyingly at the edges of his mind. He felt his eyelashes catch on the edges of the tape across his eyes and felt claustrophobia burn a path from his stomach. He huffed out a deep breath from his nose and tried to calm down. He was slightly comforted by the hiccupping that signified the presence of Stella next to him, taped to a chair if the sound was any indication.

His shoulder shifted on what felt like hardwood floor when he landed on it. He wished he could see. He wished he could get Stella out of here. He wished he could comfort her. He wished he knew what these people wanted He wished his dad would bust down the door right now, guns blazing, here to save them.

He wished Derek wasn’t dead.

“Stiles?” Stella’s miserable voice said form above him. “Stiles, are you there?”

Stiles gave a positive noise behind the tape across his mouth.

“I-It’s okay, Stiles. It’ll be okay.” Stella sniffed. “Daddy will save us.”

Stiles felt his throat constrict, tears threatening to fall behind his blindfold.

She was trying to comfort him.

Stiles’ body jerked when a door swung open hard and hit a wall. He heard Stella’s breathing pick up as footsteps approached them. Stiles yelled his displeasure into his gag, unable to do anything else as the footsteps stopped nearby. Stiles felt someone kneel next to him.

“Excellent.” A smooth voice crooned, grabbing Stiles’ chin and turning his head back and fourth, seemingly inspecting him. “Too bad we have to cover up those beautiful eyes.”

“Leave him alone!” Stella screeched. Stiles heard the chair she was tied to creak as she wiggled. Whoever was holding Stiles dropped his head on the ground and Stiles heard their captor approach Stella.

“And the precocious little Stella. What a precious little girl.” Stiles heard a smile in the man’s voice.

Clenching his teeth, Stiles curled up his body and unleashed a kick to the man before he could get to captive little girl. Stiles felt a dark satisfaction when he heard a curse and the sound of someone stumbling.

It was short lived, however, because every square inch of breath was knocked out of the teenager’s body by a kick to his unprotected stomach.

“I think the siblings would do well with some separation, don’t you think?” the smooth voice said. “Take him to one of the bedrooms and set up the cameras.”

Stiles growled as he felt himself picked up and thrown over somebody’s shoulder. Helplessly swinging to the sound of Stella’s screams as he was carried upstairs. He heard laughter from their captors.

“Let’s give the Sheriff a little show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. Goddamn, I'm awful. I'm working on it, I promise.


	7. Is the Moon out?

Deputy Parish looked up form his desk when he saw The Sheriff hurry into the police much later than anyone should have been there. A look of confusion pulled his eyebrows together when he saw his boss’s sweaty, panicked face.

“Sheriff?” Parish questioned, getting to his feet out of respect. “I thought you were-“

“Back early.” The Sheriff interrupted before his deputy could finish. “Came in to do a little paperwork. Desk duty tonight?”

“Yes, Sir.” The deputy answered. “Are you alright? You need anything?”

“No. No, just make sure nobody bothers me, alright, Parish?” Sheriff Stilinski muttered before walking into his office and shutting the door with a bang. Parish watched as the blinds to the Sheriff’s office closed, cutting off the view inside.

“Yes, Sir.” The deputy said quietly, sinking back down to his chair, not taking his concerned eyes off the now closed Sheriff’s office door.

John closed all of his blinds that let the moonlight in from outside the building.

_Is the moon out, Daddy? What’s it look like? Is it pretty?_ Stella’s voice supplied from his memories.

_It is pretty, Baby Girl, but not as pretty as you_. He’d answered her.

The Sheriff shook off that thought before he turned with grim determination toward his computer and sat down at his desk chiar. He booted it up.

As soon as the screen flickered to life, The Sheriff quickly opened his e-mail, as the clipped voice that had called his house phone had instructed him to do. It took him a few minutes to sort through the junk mail he’d let accumulate.

_Jesus, Dad. 2,000 unread e-mails? Are you trying to crash this thing?_ Stiles’ exasperated voice asked him.

_Maybe I am. And watch you damn language, Stiles_ He’d chided his son.

_I’ll watch my language when you stop sneaking donuts after I go to school. Don’t look at me like that. I know you do. I have eyes everywhere._ John had tried and failed not to smile at what a smartass his son turned out to be.

John found the e-mail form an unknown sender and opened it. In contained a link to a video chat. John’s heart pounded as he went to click on it.

The window popped up and he was faced with a split screen. On one, Stella was sitting in what looked like a kitchen chair, duct tape wrapped around her small body pinning her to the chair. A steady stream of tears squeezed out of her eyes as her mouth called out her brother’s name over and over again.

The other screen was blank.

“Hello, Sheriff.” A distorted voice growled out of the speakers on his computer, forcibly jerking the lawman out of his distress.

“Wh-where’s Stiles? Who are you? What do you want?” The Sheriff demanded.

“Easy, Sheriff. First things first.” The distorted voice said. “You need to know that I mean business.”

“You think I don’t know you mean business? You threaten my family while I’m halfway across the country and you kidnap my children-”

The other screen sprang to life. Stiles glared at the screen from his place kneeling on the carpeted floor. His arms were bound behind his back and there was tape across his mouth. He looked up when a masked figure in black approached him.

“Don’t take away my fun, Sheriff.”

Before John could say anything, the man threw a punch into Stiles’ cheekbone, resulting in the helpless teen falling sideways into the carpet.

“What are you doing!?! No! Stop! Please, stop!” The Sheriff pleaded to his computer screen.

“The more you talk the more your son suffers, Sheriff.” The voice barked.

The Sheriff choked off his protests, biting his lip hard enough to bleed as he watched the man send one, two, three excruciating kick’s into Stiles’ stomach. Stiles curled up as much as he could, using his knees to protect himself a fraction. He buried his face into the carpet as his tormentor walked back out of frame.

“I’ve done this for two reasons, Sheriff.” The voice continued calmly. “One, Stiles has been a bit too willful during our time together and needed to be punished. Two, this is to show you just how little control you have over this situation.”

The Sheriff clutched the edge of his desk, but kept his jaw clenched firmly shut.

“Do I have your attention?” the voice asked.

“Y-yes.” The Sheriff answered, nodding his head shakily.

“Good. Then you can give me what I want without a problem.” The voice said.

“What do you want?” The Sheriff asked.

“Who is the Alpha?” The voice asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You. Guys. Are. The. Best. Seriously, I don't think I could go on without your wonderful comments. Thank you so much. I hope I don't disappoint.


	8. Stiles?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't play with me, Sheriff.

Stiles dragged in breath through his nose for a while before he could quiet the roaring in his head long enough to tune back into the conversation.

“-talking about, Alpha? I don’t-“ his father’s voice asked frantically.

“Don’t play with me, Sheriff, I’d hate to see what I’d do to your son if you play with me. Or should I perhaps move on to young Stella?” The smooth voice from before asked.

Stiles shouted his displeasure as he watched the dark figure that had ripped the tape form his eyes approach him again. He didn’t have the strength to wiggle away.

“Alpha WHAT?!? Alpha Rameau? Alpha Bravo Charlie? Alpha Chi Delta? WHAT!?!” The Sheriff asked desperately.

The man approaching Stiles paused.

“I supposed you might be ignorant of what you found out with your more recent investigations, so I will make you a deal, Sheriff.” The voice said. Stiles breathed a sight of relief along with his father when the man beating Stiles walked away form him.

“You have 24 hours to bring me the name of the Alpha or your children suffer.” The smooth voice said. “Don’t disappoint me, Sheriff.”

“Wai-” was all the Sheriff had a chance to say before the connection was broken. Stiles watched as the men approached him with a new strip of tape for his eyes.

_What the fuck’s an Alpha?_ Stiles thought to himself as they pinned him down with a knee to his chest as they blinded him once again.

 

“Wait!” The Sheriff called on the other end of the video as he watched the screen go blank helplessly. He ran his fingers through his hair for a moment just before he grabbed his coffee cup and threw it violently against the wall.

He reached into his pocket and brought out the Polaroid that he found at his home. He threw it on his desk just as Deputy Parish burst into his office.

“Sheriff Stilinki, is everything okay?” Parish asked. “I heard a crash.”

“Get me the files on all open investigations in Beacon County. Everyth-“ The Sheriff broke off mid-word, staring at the Polaroid.

“Sir?” Parish asked.

John opened a desk drawer and pulled out a magnifying glass. He held it above the picture over the lower left hand corner. On the carpet, next to Stiles’ right knee was a cardboard box.

_Tony’s Pizza_ was written on it in swirly script.

 

Stiles grunted through the tape across his mouth as he rubbed the tape across his wrists against an exposed carpet nail he found on the corner of the room he as in. He’d never been more thankful for shoddy workmanship.

He paused when he heard a scraping noise.

Heart in his throat, he strained his ears to hear what was happening. The scraping noise stopped, followed immediately by the creak of plastic sliding against plastic. The window was opening.

“Stiles?” A deep, familiar voice whispered.


	9. Hide

Stiles grunted his relief as a warm, strong hand cradled his head and carefully removed the tape from his eyes, revealing Derek’s wincing face.

“I’m sorry. It took me awhile to climb up here.” Derek whispered, working the tape across Stiles’ mouth off. Stiles sucked in a breath hungrily.

“My God, I’m so glad you’re alive. I’m so glad you’re here” Stiles gasped. “What are you doing here? Did you call the cops?”

“I followed the van. My phone’s dead. I don’t suppose you have yours.” Stiles wiggled forward to allow Derek access to his taped wrists.

“Yeah, totally. They let me keep my phone.” Stiles grunted sarcastically. “They also dialed the police for me and held the phone up to my ear.”

“Alright, Smartass.” Derek shuffled over to see if he could free Stiles’ wrists, then he froze.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“I can hear them. They’re coming back up here.” Derek murmured, his eyes wide.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” Stiles hissed. “Put the tape back on!”

“What?” Derek squawked.

“They will kill you! To _death_! Put the tape back on me and hide in the fucking closet!” Stiles ground out.

“But…” Derek started.

“Now, Derek!”

Derek’s jaw clenched as he put the tape carefully over Stiles’ mouth and eyes. The door handle started to turn. Stiles must have heard it, because he began to moan behind the tape in panic. Derek scrambled across the carpet and dove into the closet just as the room’s door opened.

“Jesus, kid! Shut up!” the man growled in annoyance. “I’m supposed to watch you.”

 _Goddamn it!_ Stiles swore quietly to himself. _How are we supposed to get out of here…?_

“Boss said I can wail on you if you give me trouble, but I dunno if I’m gonna get bored or not.” The man said. “What do you say? You wanna play, Kid? I gotta pay you back form that baseball swung you got.”

Stiles clenched his teeth together and stayed silent. His captor was just taunting him anyway. Stiles’ stomach clenched when he heard the man get closer.

“What? You got nothing to say?” the guy laughed. Stiles yelped as the tape was painfully ripped form his eyes. The man’s eyes grew wide when he saw the partially torn tape still binding Stiles’ arms together. His captor’s teeth were suddenly bared and he lunged for Stiles.

The man’s hand pinned Stiles’ head to the wall, it’s thumb and forefinger clamping the boy’s nose shut. Stiles began to thrash when his oxygen was completely cut off.

“You trying to get out of that tape, you little shit!?!” The man shouted.

Stiles struggled, his lungs burning. He looked up at the man killing him in a paralyzing panic when he saw two muscular arms wrap around his captor from behind. Stiles gulped in oxygen when the man’s hand released his nose.

One arm went around the man’s neck, the other clapped over his mouth and pinching his nose shut. The guy struggled, clawing at the arms that cut off his air. Derek’s head popped up around the man’s shoulder.

“You do you like it, you son of a bitch?” Derek hissed, twisting his legs around the kidnapper’s and bringing the man down. “Bet nobody’ll come help you because they’ll think you’re just beating Stiles. Struggle all you want.”

The man’s convulsing grew weaker and weaker, his face turning a deep purple before the kidnapper went completely still. Derek stayed on him a few more seconds before releasing him and tossing him aside, crawling back over to Stiles.

“That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” Stiles wheezed when Derek freed his mouth again. “Oh my God. I could jump you right now.”

Stiles saw the color rise in Derek’s cheeks as he ripped the tape binding Stiles.

“Later. Right now, we got things to do.” Derek muttered, looking intensely at Stiles.

“Right. Let’s get Stella and get the fuck out of the hell hole.” Stiles nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments. They really keep me going. You guys are the best.


	10. The Collector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's what he does to bad guys!

Stella had exhausted herself into hiccups, straining to hear anything other than the silence that followed the alarming thumps that has just come from the upstairs bedroom where her brother had been dragged.

“Stiles…” Stella whined, pulling ineffectually at the duct tape around her.

“Poor, sweet girl.” A new voice cooed at her. Stella jerked in surprise, too busy listening for Stiles to realize whomever it was was so close. She shrank away as much as she could. “Now, Stella, don’t be that way.”

Stella remained stubbornly silent, her head tipped down, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Are you thirsty, Little One?” the voice asked.

Stella didn’t answer, her sightless eyes still glaring, even as tears fell out of them.

“Are you worried your Daddy won’t save you?” the man asked.

“My Daddy will save us!” Stella burst out. The man chuckled and Stella felt anger burn in her belly. “He’s gonna come in here and shoot you with his gun because that’s what he does to bad guys!”

“I’m sure he will, Darling.” The man soothed patronizingly. “He just needs to give me what I want.”

“What…what do you want?” Stella hiccupped, curious despite herself.

‘Because I’m The Collector, Stella.” The man said, caressing the little girl’s chin with one clammy finger. “And this town can give me something that I’ve been looking for for a very long time.”

 

Stiles pressed his back against the siding under the window, closing his eyes for a brief moment before looking over at Derek

The older boy crouched in the dirt, the very top of his head bathed in the light coming from the house as he peeked over the window ledge, his green eyes wide as he took in the scene inside.

“We don’t have much time.” Stiles whispered. “They’re gonna find that guy upstairs sooner or later.”

The man who had tried to suffocate Stiles was bound and gagged tightly with duct tape, still sitting unconscious in the closet where Derek had viciously stuffed him before crawling out of the window with Stiles, then regrouping outside of the house.

“Four left.” Derek grunted quietly.

“Four?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, four.” Derek answered.

“How is that possible? There was four that kidnapped us and there’s one out of commission.”

“I think I remember how to count to four Stiles.” Derek deadpanned, sparing a glance down at the other boy. “Three in the living room one…”

“One what? What’s the other one doing?” Stiles hissed when Derek trailed off.

“He’s with Stella. It looks like they’re just talking.” Derek explained.

“What? What’s he doing? Is he touching her?” Stiles asked frantically, scrambling up to his knees next to Derek. His eyes went wide. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Derek asked.

“I know that guy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I am so sorry. Thanks for sticking with me.


	11. Diversion

“What? What do you mean you know him?” Derek asked.

“You _don’t_ know him?” Stiles contered. “He’s that crazy millionaire that was all over the internet. Fenris. Conrad Fenris. Crazy Conrad Fenris.”

“Why’s he crazy?” Derek asked.

“Besides the obvious reason?” Stiles asked blankly gesturing toward the house where his sister was still being held captive.

“Yeah, besides that.” Derek answered. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“He told the entire world that werewovles were real and he could prove it.” Stiles said.

“Werewovles?” Derek asked, something unreadable in his eyes.

“Yeah.” Stiles said. “Everyone laughed him off every stage he stepped on when he went public and he sort of disappeared after that.”

“What’s his beef with the Sheriff?” Derek looked at Stiles with wide eyes.

“I think that is something we should discuss in a cushy chair in my dad’s office after we get Stella the fuck out of here.” Stiles answered, glancing at the window again.

“How do we do that? We can’t take out four guys.” Derek questioned.

“And I’d rather cut my hand off than leave Stella here.” Stiles muttered almost to himself, thinking. He looked up to meet Derek’s eyes suddenly, something occurring to him. “Can I see your car keys?”

Derek immediately dug them out of his pocket and handed them over. Stiles grabbed the remote and put his finger over the panic button.

Derek nodded his understanding. He pointed in the direction the Camaro was parked and Stiles counted to three breathlessly and pushed the red button.

The two boys watched as all of the occupants of the house looked up to the sound of the honking screech coming form the Camaro outside. Fenris directed two of the men out of the front door toward the noise, and the other upstairs to presumably check on Stiles and his cruel guard.

Fenris followed the two going out of the front door, leaving Stella alone in the kitchen

They wouldn’t have much time.

Derek yanked open the back door and dove inside the house, followed closely by Stiles. They scrambled across the linoleum to the chair that held Stella. She gasped when she felt hands on her and opened her mouth to scream.

“Stella! Squirt, it’s me. It’s Stiles.” Stiles comforted while Derek ripped the tape off of her, pulling on the fabric of her dress, trying to be as painless as possible with her arms. “We need to be really quiet, okay? We’re getting out of here.”

Stella nodded, wrapping her arms around her brother’s neck when they were free of the tape. Stiles hugged her back tightly, burying his face in her shoulder, his body was trembling.

“Stiles.” Derek finally interrupted quietly. He saw Stiles nod his head, picking up his sister. She clung to him, wrapping her legs around his slim waist. Derek’s heart flew into his throat when he heard thundering steps down the stairs.

“Hey!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference - If anyone's wondering where I got [Conrad Fenris](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCysmofgbMY)


	12. Car Alarm

Derek immediately stepped in front of Stiles and Stella, who clung to each other tightly. He crouched down, squaring off against the man in front of them, throwing an arm in front of Stiles and Stella.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man said.

“The pizza guy.” Derek growled. Stiles heard an animalistic growl coming from somewhere and he pressed Stella against his chest more tightly, unsure of where the noise came from.

“I know you. You’re that kid from the house!” The attacker accused.

“I just told you that.” Derek muttered, keeping himself between the kidnapper and Stiles holding Stella.

“I shot you.” The man kept on.

“Apperently you missed.” Derek answered.

The kidnapper was frozen for a moment and Derek took the chance to step forward and throw his fist into the man’s face.

Their attacker stumbled backward and Derek threw a heel kick into the man’s sternum, making him stumble backward and into the partially finished cabinets. Stiles heard the man’s skull hit wood with a sickening _crack_.

Derek turned toward Stiles and put a comforting hand against the younger boy’s back to lead him to the back door carrying his still crying sister.

“Fuck, I hope that guy’s not dead.” Derek  mumbled absentmindedly, opening the door for Stiles.

“I’m not gonna be too broken up about it.” Stiles answered, glancing back at the prone body with one hand against Stella’s head, pressing it against his shoulder. Derek huffed out a breath and kept his hand on Stiles’s lower back as they ran across the back lawn into the darkened woods behind the house the kidnappers were keeping them.

Only when they reached the shadows of the forest did they start breathing again. Derek looked out from the darkness with wide eyes, Stiles next to him, still clutching Stella.

“Forest is good. Forest is nice.” Sitles babbled. “Dark. Romantic, or whatever.”

Derek glanced over at him, one eyebrow raised. Stiles took a deep breath and forced himself to stop talking.

“It’s a good thing it’s here.” Derek answered, looking back toward the house.

“Yeah. We can law low for awhile until we can get to…” Stiles began, until he was interrupted by Derek holding up a hand and tipping his head to the side, as if listening. Stella stirred on her brother’s shoulder.

“What was that?” she whispered.

Suddenly, the sound of shrieking metal cut through the night, making all three of them jerk in surprise.

“What the fuck was that?” Stiles hissed.

“Oh, no…” Derek moaned.

The three of them ran in the cover of darkness over to where the sound had come from. Under the metallic groaning they heard earlier, they heard the roar of a diesel engine also rumbled through the night.

Derek, Stiles, and Stella all peered around the partially finished siding of another building in the housing development in time to see what was making all the noise.

A bulldozer had lurched to life, it’s claw slicing through the air until it buried itself in a small bundle of black steel that had been carefully hidden behind it.

Skewered on the unforgiving arm of the bulldozer, Derek’s black Camaro was yanked into the air, it’s alarm still squealing and the light still flashing.

“My car…” Derek murmured in a small voice as the three of them watched the bulldozer’s arm crush the Camaro without preamble, silencing the alarm forever.


	13. We Should Get Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You close with your family?

“Holy shit.” Stiles breathed. “Holy shit!”

Derek’s jaw was slack as he watched his once shiny, almost brand new, almost paid off Camero crushed into a cylander of twisted metal. The jaws of the bulldozer opened and what started the night as a car fell to the ground with an earth-shattering crash. One thought came into sharp focus in Derek’s panicked mind.

_How am I going to get them out of here now?_

“Children!” A calm voice called out in the sudden silence that followed the destructive machinery being turned off.

Derek tensed, but Stiles laid a hand on his shoulder, squinting toward the scene of the wreckage to see figures moving around the construction equipment. Fenris appeared to not know where they were, but instead was calling out to the night around him.

“We are miles from Beacon Hills. It could be in any direction. I highly doubt your savior is enough to save you from the things that hunt in these forests and night.” Fenris informed them as one of his men climbed out of the bulldozer. “Give yourselves up now, no harm done. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee your safety. I would hate to have your father find what happens to your poor, tender bodies.”

Stiles’ jaw clenched, then jerked his head around when he heard that low growl again, tightening his grip on Stella.

He snapped out of it when he heard felt Derek put a hand on his shoulder.

“We should get moving.” Derek whispered. Stiles shook himself out of his stupor. “Doesn’t matter what he says. The forest is our best bet. Quickest way back to town.”

Stiles nodded and allowed Derek to lead him back toward the tree line, away from the still smoking wreckage of the car.

 

The night was clear, the moon almost full and the forest was illuminated in an ethereal glow.

Despite Fenris’ words, Stiles didn’t feel particularly ill-at-ease in the woods. He’d grown up around this preserve, after all. His heart jumped at every small noise that could possibly be their pursuers finally catching up with them, take them back to that awful house and those awful men.

Every time he jumped, Derek brushed his shoulder against Stiles’ and Stiles felt himself comforted.

“How far are we from civilization?” Stiles asked, adjusting Stella on his back, her small body limp in sleep from where he draped her across his broad shoulders as they walked through the forest, her head laying against the nape of his neck, his arms curled around her legs. “The van ride didn’t tell me much.”

“Not far. Ten miles. We should probably rest soon, though.” Derek explained, his eyes looking sharply into the forest around them.

“I’m fine.” Stiles immediately assured him, feeling the pull of exhaustion beginning to creep up in his muscles.

“You’re gonna crash.” Derek answered. “Especially carrying Stella.”

“Well, if you want to stop, I guess I can humor you.” Stiles conceded. Derek gave a small smirk.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Derek glanced over at Stiles. “I can take her for awhile, too, if you want.”

“No.” Stiles said quickly. Derek raised his eyebrow. “I mean, uh…it’s not that I don’t trust you…it’s just…I, uh…”

“Stiles?” Derek asked.

“They….they separated us…wouldn’t let me…”Stiles gave a small sigh in frustration. Derek nodded.

“Yeah, I got it.” Derek assured him.

“You’re close with your family?” Stiles asked.

“Don’t know.” Derek responded with careful casualness. “Never met them.”

Burning with curiosity, but reading the untold story behind Derek’s words, Stiles decided not to pry.

“So, how did you, uh…” Stiles began. “How did you escape? Not get shot? At the house, I mean.”

“I almost didn’t.” Derek answered as the stopped walking for a bit. “I heard the gunshots and got out of the way. One of the bullets grazed my shirt.”

Derek lifted up the tail of his t-shirt to show the bullet hole to Stiles.

Stiles caressed the hole reverently, his long fingers running over the fabric. He reached down and laid his hand against the unblemished skin of Derek’s stomach. His eyes flicked around to Derek’s back and he froze.

“Derek…” Stiles breathed in a careful voice

“What?”

“This bullet didn’t miss you.”


	14. Adrenaline?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We need to find some cover.

“What!?!” Derek squawked, twisting to try to see his back. He twisted enough to see a small bloodstain on the back of his shirt, Stiles’ long finger poking through the ragged hole in the middle of it.

Stiles carefully laid a still sleeping Stella down on the soft ground cover of the forest and turning back toward Derek, who pulled off his shirt in a panic and was looking at the bloodstain on the back of it. Stiles looked at the flawless skin of his back and ran and hand over it.

“What the hell?” Derek mumbled.

“I don’t know, how do you get shot and _not realize it_!?” Stiles hissed.

“Adrenaline?” Derek tried.

“Derek!”

“I didn’t get shot!” Derek insisted. “They missed…didn’t they?”

“It would seem that theory goes out the window with this handy _bullet hole_ you have here! Are you alright? Are you lightheaded?”

“No, I’m not lightheaded; what-“

Stella started to stir with their harsh hushed tones. Stiles turned and picked her up and she quieted again.

“We need to find some cover.” Derek stated, sliding his shirt back on. Stiles nodded and followed him as he started to walk through the forest again.

 

They found a small clearing, out of the way to anything that might be hunting them, hidden by bushes as they settled down on leaves and looked up at the night sky. None to soon, either. Stiles was dead on his feet, Stella getting heavier and heavier as the night went on.

Derek swept the dry leaves into a pile and Stiles laid his sister down on them.

Stiles sat next to Derek  as the older boy thumbed the tail of his shirt over the bullet hole, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Are you the alpha?” Stiles blurted suddenly. Derek’s head jerked up.

“Alpha?” Derek asked.

“It’s what Fenris was looking for.” Stiles supplied. “It’s what he’s trying to force my Dad to hand over.”

“I…Stiles, werewolves aren’t real.” Derek reasoned.

“I _know_ that!” Stiles said plaintively. “I just…I don’t know how else to explain it…you were shot…”

“I don’t _know_ , Stiles…” Derek lamented. There was silence for a few beats before Stiles raised both hands, palms out, interrupting him.

“No, you know what? Sorry, I’m sorry. You’ve saved our lives, I shouldn’t pry into your wolviness.” Stiles said solemnly.

“That’s not even a word…” Derek began.

“What you do in the privacy of your own wolf den is your business.” Stiles continued, his voice getting a bit more dramatic. He glanced over at Derek, his lip curling up slightly.

“You’re making fun of me.” Derek accused.

“No! How stupid would it be to make fun of a fearsome wolf such as yourse-ah!”

Derek took Stiles soliloquizing as opportunity to tackle him into the soft leaf pile. Stiles laughed and continued to speak.

“Oh, no! Attacked by a wolf! How will I ever survive!” Stiles mourned dramatically.

Derek lay on top to Stiles, their bodies flush as they both settled. Derek mapped out the exact color of shining caramel that Stiles’ eyes became in the moonlight.

“How will you ever survive?” Derek whispered, their faces unbearably close. Worry crept into Derek’s hazel eyes. Stiles hummed and wrapped his arms around Derek’s back.

“Whatever it is.” Stiles murmured. “I can’t help but be grateful.”

“Why?”

“It saved you.”

Derek cradled Stile’s head, his fingers buried in feather soft brown hair, bringing Stiles’ lips against his. He felt Stiles’ arms curl around his shoulders, bringing their bodies even closer. They broke apart breathlessly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Stiles whispered.

They fell asleep curled around Stella, the moonlight surrounding them.


	15. Electricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at his eyes!

Stiles awoke to boot pressed against his throat.

His body began to buck involuntarily, clawing at the restriction of his breathing. He heard cold laughter around him. He cast his eyes around to see them surrounded by their attackers form before and Stiles heart flew into his bruised throat.

“I told you not to come out into these woods, Stiles.” Stiles heard Fenris say. Stiles turned a saw, once again, Stella in the hands of one of the kidnappers.

“Let…go…” Stiles wheezed, still struggling to breathe.

Stiles heard a ear-splitting roar just before the boot came off his neck. He rolled to the side, coughing, just catching a glimpse of Derek tearing into the kidnapper. Stiles looked on in horror as another approached him from behind, some kind of metal wand in his hand.

“Derek...” Stiles croaked, just before he touched Derek with the metal wand. Energy crackled and Derek’s body jerked as electricity surged through him. “No…”

“Stop!” Stiles heard Fenris say.

Stiles turned onto his stomach with the intention of crawling toward Derek, trying to see if he was alive, but was stopped by the press of another boot between his shoulder blades. He coughed as his weakened body was crushed to the dirt.

Fenris stalked toward Derek, now laying on the ground, his body jerking with aftershocks.

“Finally…” Fenris murmured. “Finally, I have you…”

Derek tried to shy away from Fenris’ touch, but was doused with electricity again for his trouble. Fenris grabbed Derek's face and turned it, examining his features and Stiles got a glimpse of Derek in the moonlight.

The older boy's face had transformed into something decidedly more beast-like, his canines elongated, his brow more pronounced, his eyes glowing a golden yellow. He snarled at Fenris, tearing weakly at the dirt with actual claws. The claws of a…

“…werewolf…” Stiles breathed.

“What!?!” Fenris barked, throwing Derek back into the dirt.

“What is it, Boss?” the man holding Stiles down asked. Fenris grabbed the tazer from the other man and jabbed Derek with it. Derek screamed through his teeth, his jaw clenched in pain as his werewolf features melted into his regular ones.

“Look at his eyes, you idiot!” Fenris yelled. “He’s not the alpha!”


	16. Oh, God...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one animal here and I'm looking at him.

“I’m not going to play games with you anymore!” Fenris yelled, jabbing Derek with the cattle prod. Derek screamed and thrashed in the dirt “Where is your alpha, you mutt?”

“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re…” Derek started weakly, but was cut off with another touch of electricity.

“Stop!” Stiles shouted form his place under the man’s boot. “Stop, you’re gonna kill him!”

Fenris rounded on Stiles and the teenager felt his stomach sink as the man approached him. He tried to wiggle away, but the boot on his back held him down firm.

“I have been looking for this creature for years, Stiles. I found out there’s one in Beacon Hills, I just need to find out where.” Fenris crouch down the dirt at Stiles’ eye level and Stiles did his level best to glare at him.

“Look, we don’t. know. anything.” Stiles glared through clenched teeth. “ And that obviously includes my dad. Why don’t you just let us go?”

Fenris grabbed Stiles jaw and twisted his head up painfully. Derek growled weakly behind him.

“Because you’re the only leads I’ve got, Stiles. I will find the alpha. I will be recognized for my work.”

“What kind of work is worth killing people over?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, Stiles. An alpha is the only kind of werewolf that can turn people into werewolves. Can you imagine the applications? To science? To the world? I think the military would pay the most for it, however.”

“And what happens to the werewolves? Lab rats? Hated? Feared? You’re going to make them come out of hiding for what? A pay day?” Stiles glared.

“Small price to pay. People use animal testing all the time.” Fenris smirked.

“There’s only one animal here and I’m looking at him.” Stiles growled, his jaw clenching. Fenris snarled and slapped Stiles harshly.

Derek howled his displeasure and Stiles heard the crackle of energy as Derek was tazed again. Fenris glanced behind him, then smiled down at Stiles.

“Maybe I’m putting pressure in the wrong place.” Fenris said smoothly.

Before Stiles could blink Fenris had hauled him up  form the ground and put his arm suffocating around Stiles’ throat, giving him the perfect view of Derek twitching in the dirt. Fenris grabbed one of his men’s hunting knives and put it against Stiles’ throat.

“Don’t!” Derek snarled.

“He’s of no use to me now, wolf.” Fenris said, putting the serrated blade against Stiles’ pale throat. “What’s the point in keeping him alive?”

“You hurt him and I will rip you to shreds.” Derek challenged.

“Big words coming form a dog in the dirt.” Fenris said, slicing a bloody gash open on Stiles collar bone. Stiles screamed as Derek roared. “Tell me where the alpha is or he’s dead!”

“Daddy!” Stella screeched suddenly. “Daddy, please! I need to-! Stiles!”

“Stella, calm down, everything’s gonna be okay. I promise.” Stiles choked out. “I love you. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

"Stiles! Daddy, please!" Stella wailed.

“Your father’s not coming for you, dear girl.” Fenris threw over his shoulder. Fenris put the knife against Stiles’ cheekbone and gave him another long cut as Stiles cried out in pain. “Where is it!?!”

“I don’t know! Let him go!” Derek pleaded.

 _Oh God…please, I don’t want to die…_ Stiles thought, squeezing his eyes shut and letting tears run down his face.

“Daddy!” Stella cried some more. “Please, Daddy!”

“Yes, Stella! Now, Baby!” The Sherriff roared as he came out of the woods, the gun leveled at the scene in the clearing. Fenris let go of Stiles in his surprise. Stiles scrambled to get to his sister.

And turned just in time to see Stella’s eyes glow red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't keep the secret anymore. lol I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Thanks so so so much for any comments you have. They are great.


	17. Hysterical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Think of something nice.

Stiles’ head was pounding.

He was on his back, splayed out on the dirt, trying to remember how he got there. He heard deep, comforting voices chanting something over and over again. Voices he recognized.

_Dad…and…Derek…_

He tried to remember what happened around the throb in his head.

There was forest…there was danger…there was Derek…there was Stella.

The asshole Fenris shoved him…he stumbled, and…Stella’s eyes…

 _Oh, God…I hit my head on a rock like an idiot_ Stiles groaned inwardly, feeling the wet stickiness of blood on the side of his face.

Stiles heard Derek and his father grow more agitated.

Stiles cracked his eyes open and saw Derek on his knees, his face fully human, his hands up pleadingly, the Sheriff crouched down beside him in much the same position. Their wide eyes were not directed toward Stiles’ motionless body, but something standing over him.

“It’s okay, Baby, it’s alright, you got them.” Stiles finally made out the Sheriff’s words. “You scared them away. Everything’s okay now. I promise. They can’t hurt you anymore.

“Stella, you can do it. All you have to do is think of something that makes you happy, okay? Think of something nice.” Derek said carefully, his eyes pleading.

Stiles followed their gaze to whomever they were pleading with.

Stella crouched over Stiles, her tiny clawed hands wrapped around two trembling fistfuls of his shirt. Her face was formed into something similar to what Derek’s was, her fangs bared as she bent protectively over him, her animalistic features twisted in a sob. Tears poured steadily form her glowing red eyes.

“They said they were gonna kill Stiles! They said they were gonna kills Stiles and I…they…they…” Stella choked out in a growling blubber. “He won’t wake up!”

Stiles almost recoiled from the unexpected sight of Stella, wolfed out and completely hysterical, but his muddy brain took in her face and couldn’t see anything but his scared baby sister under a fearsome Alpha werewolf.

“He’s fine, Sweetie.” The Sheriff said. “He’s just sleeping. He’ll wake up.”

“He’s not sleeping! They were gonna kill him…they were gonna kill him…” Stella wailed, gripping his shirt tighter. She opened her mouth and howled, long and mournful.

Stiles reached up with a gentle hand and touched her shoulder. She paused with a gasp.

“Stiles?” She hiccupped softly.

“You wanna keep it down, Squirt?” Stiles croaked. “Some of us are trying to catch some shut eye.”

Stella threw herself into Stiles’ arms and Stiles petted her hair comfortingly as she sobbed into his shirt. He felt the fur she had sprouted recede back into her face and her claws withdrew as well.

Stiles look up as his father approached cautiously.

“Hey, Dad.” Stiles choked back his own relieved tears.

The Sheriff wordlessly knelt down in the dirt and gathered his children up in his arms.

“Thank God…Oh, I love you both so much…thank God…” The sheriff muttered as he felt Stella bury her face in his shoulder and cry harder.

Behind them, Derek let his butt hit the dirt with a relieved huff, rubbing his face with one palm.


	18. Huh. Werewolves.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if you remember me.

How they got to the Sheriff’s station, Stiles isn’t quite sure. He might have hit his head a little harder than he thought. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled to consciousness against his will once again.

“Hey.” The Sheriff whispered, his hand shaking his son’s shoulder. “Wake up, Kid.”

“Mmmpha?” Stiles mumbled incoherently. He looked around and saw he was lying on the cushy couch in his father’s office. In his arms, a sleeping Stella lay curled up, breathing steadily into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

Looking closer, Stiles took in the two strong arms wrapped around his waist, two muscular legs splayed on either side of his own, and he felt someone else’s breath huff against the nape of his neck. Stiles winced at the feeling of his stitches pulling as he turned and saw Derek’s sleeping face, his nose buried in Stiles’ shoulder, also breathing in Stiles’ scent.

Huh. Werewolves.

“You don’t have to get up, but Doc said you had to wake up every hour for awhile.” The Sheriff said, pulling the blanket over all three of them.

“Mmmwhassgoin’ on?” Stiles mumbled quietly, squinting at the sun rising outside.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Dad.” Stiles groaned.

“Listen, I got it taken care of, okay?” Sheriff said, putting a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.

Stiles thought about fighting him for a moment, but the pounding in his head won out as he nodded and settled back into Derek’s chest, wrapping his arms around Stella.

Deputy Parrish poked his head in the Sheriff’s office. Sheriff Stilinski looked up at him.

“Deputies are still working on your house, Sir, but the APB is out on Fenris and associates.” Parrish reported. “Also, there’s someone here to see you.”

John nodded as turned back toward Stiles, who blinked at him lazily.

“Get some more sleep. I’ll wake you when I need to.” The Sheriff said, leaning over and pressing a kiss against Stella’s forehead.

Stiles nodded and didn’t even have it in him to protest when John leaned over and gave him a kiss on his forehead as well. Stiles allowed his eyes to slide shut, surrounded by the comfort and warmth of his family and Derek.

The Sheriff got to his feet and walked quietly out of his office. He didn’t quite manage to latch the door, however, and it stayed open a crack, allowing Stiles to hear his father greet the visitor quite clearly.

“Hi, I’m Sheriff Stilinski. Sorry about the mess in here, we’ve got a bit of a situation. What can I do for you?” Stiles heard his father ask politely.

“Hello, Sheriff.” A smooth, female voice answered. “I’m not sure if you remember me. My name is Talia Hale.”

Stiles’ eyes snapped open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the fluff. I just...really need some fluff.


End file.
